


Pretend, ignore, forget & repeat

by OnlyOneWoman



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst, Belize - Freeform, Boys In Love, Caring, Closeted Character, Derdrian, Emotional Constipation, Emotions, Falling In Love, Fever, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, M/M, Self-Hatred, Tenderness, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 02:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11500080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyOneWoman/pseuds/OnlyOneWoman
Summary: A Belize fic where Adrian is sick and Deran is... well, Deran, trying to balance on a very thin line between how he thinks he has to be and how he'd like to be, as usual shit scared of his own emotions.





	Pretend, ignore, forget & repeat

”Come on, man! Don’t be such a fag.”  
”I don’t feel good, okay? You get that? I think I have a fever.”  
”So?”  
  
Adrian just sighs. He really doesn’t feel good today and he’s sick of Deran’s impatience, lack of understanding and constant homophobic slurs. Sure he’s a closet case and sure, Adrian understands more than well how these weeks must have crashed down on him but there’s a fucking limit. Deran stands in the doorway to their bedroom – yes, _their_ , because since getting to Belize Deran has only slept one night, the first, in the apartment he rents alone and the rest of the nights have been spent here, the two of them swirled together like two sunwarm lizards.   
  
For a closet case on this level, Deran is a _very_ enthusiastic – and skilled – lover and if he could just stop with comments like these things would be fucking awesome. He has his self-ironic half-smile on his face and his eyes are distant, like he’s trying to avoid Adrian without looking away.  
  
”Hey, it will pass if you just get out. The waves are good and I aint fucking spending the day here.”  
”Didn’t ask you to. Go ahead and surf, but I’m not coming. Feel like crap.”  
”Suit yourself then.”  
  
Deran collects his stuff and leaves their apartment, slamming the door on his way out like a fucking kid. Adrian pulls the thin cover over his head and goes back to sleep.  
  
He wakes up hours later, feeling the mattress shift and when he opens his eyes, Deran’s blue gaze is… if Adrian didn’t know better, he’d say it’s worried.   
  
”You’ve slept the whole day?”  
”What time is it?”  
”Half past six.”  
”Shit… In the evening?”  
”Yes, you idiot.”  
  
Deran’s voice is soft now, the small smile gentle and he strokes Adrian’s hair, puts his hand against his forehead and frowns.  
  
”You’re warm.”  
”Told you I had fever.”  
”Yeah… sorry about… earlier.”  
”S’okay.”  
”Uhm… you need anything?”  
”We have any soda left?”  
”Just beers.”  
”Probably not a good idea now.”  
  
Deran gets up from the bed.  
  
”I’ll go buy some for you. Sodas. You need anything else?”  
”Some Ibuprofens would be nice.”  
”Sure. You’re hungry?”  
”Not really.”  
”You need to eat something.”  
  
This is very unlike Deran. Caring. Pity Adrian has no appetite, now as his usually so erratic and impatient lover shows signs of actual concern. Adrian swallows. He actually has a pretty ill taste in his mouth.  
  
”Could you get me some ice cream?”  
”What are you? Five?”  
”Cold things help when you’re feverish, asshole.”  
”The fuck should I know, I’m never sick.”  
”Just get some for me, okay?”  
  
With that, Adrian turns in bed and goes back to sleep. He’s so tired his body feels like it weighs tons and he’s out before Deran’s even left.  
  
***  
  
Deran aint gonna fucking babysit Adrian just because he’s caught a cold. Such a fucking baby, staying in bed like he’s dying. It’s a perfect day for surfing, blue sky, lots of wind and waves and Deran can’t believe he’s actually running errends for his pal like some mother hen. He drives into the city centre and park outside the first drugstore he finds. The only drugs Deran’s ever bought are illegal ones since Smurf has had a fucking storage with painkillers at home for as long as Deran remembers. He’s ran errends for her when she’s been hungover or ill lots of times and hated the vulnerability and weakness they all know was just an act to get to drop everything and just focus on her.  
  
He enters the drugstore, sweaps his gaze along the shelves until he finds the section for painkillers. Ibuprofens… Ibu… there it is. Ibuprofen 400 mg. Deran pays for them and  heads to the supermarket close by, throws some club sodas, Coke, Sprite and beers in his basket and a watermelon because Adrian likes those and Deran hates that he actually knows that. Ice cream is another matter. Deran isn’t a very big fan of it himself and he has no idea which flavour or brand to choose. Vanilla? Too boring. Chocolate? Absolutely not. Pinapple/coconut? Fucking hipster shit, that would do for his whiny b… _friend_ who sends _him_ out on stupid shit like this because he’s a little tired.  
  
Deran practically throws it in the basket and an older woman with a filled trolly gives him a sour look. He ignores it and keeps walking, now aimlessly around the shelves, adding more stuff he thinks they’re short of at ho… at _Adrian’s_ home where they’re fucking and the only reason Deran is staying there is because it lays closer to the beach. It’s all about convenience, nothing more.   
  
When he’s at the registrer, the basket has at least ten more items Adrian didn’t ask for but Deran thinks their… _Adrian’s_ empty refrigerator would need, among them bread, bananas, eggs, icetea with peach flavour and a grilled chicken. By the time Deran has paid and went back into his car, he wants to throw the fucking bag in the sea because who does Adrian think Deran is? His fucking nurse or something? He starts the car and glares angrily at every person he sees on the way back.  
  
***  
  
”Wake up. Hey, I got your stuff, man.”  
  
Adrian blinks a few times. His head throbs, he feels like absolute shit and here Deran stands with some sort of drink in a high glass by the bed, looking weirdly nervous. Adrian moves to sit up.  
  
”What’s that?”  
”Ice cream, banana and Sprite. Used your blender.”  
  
Deran sounds like he’s embarressed and Adrian knows how easily he can snap and just storm out when he feels like that so Adrian just takes the glass and Deran throws a package of painkillers on the bed.  
  
”S’it the right shit?”  
  
Adrian takes a sip of the drink – fuck, this tastes fucking amazing! – and nods.  
  
”Yeah. Thanks, this was fucking good by the way. Is it pineapple? Thought you just used bananas.”  
”Pineapple and coconut ice cream. Got some other stuff too. Eggs and bagels and shit. A watermelon.”  
  
Deran looks like he feels stupid just saying it. Like it’s embarressing. It’s _food_ for fucks sake! He shrugs, making an obvious effort to look indifferent.  
  
”Just grabbed the first thing I saw.”  
  
He definately didn’t, Adrian can tell. This is expensive, really nice ice cream and he’s even made a fucking _drink_ of it. Adrian takes a painkiller and swallows it. He already feels better, probably because Deran just showed, in his own blunt and immature way, that he actually cares whether he admits or even realises it himself. It’s not about the price of the ice cream. Deran has enough money to buy a whole milk bar, if he hadn’t, he’d probably rob one if he wanted to and if he didn’t want to, he’d do it anyway if someone said he couldn’t, just to prove a point. Adrian takes another sip.  
  
”You’re off surfing now?”  
  
Deran tucks a strain of hair behind his ear and shrugs.  
  
”Maybe later. Waves aren’t that good.”  
  
_Liar._ The waves are fucking perfect today and Adrian is careful not to smile because if Deran needs to lie to both of them to leave his comfort zone just a little, Adrian will let him.    
  
No, it’s not about the ice cream drink, the painkillers or even that Deran ran a stupid errand for him. It’s the fact that he, the seemingly indifferent, aloof and erratic _asshole_ who has the maturity of a teenager when it comes to emotions, remembers that Adrian loves watermelon and pineapple. That he’s sitting on the side of the bed in his washed-out tanktop with stains from the blender and lies about the waves not being good to have an excuse to stay.   
  
Adrian puts the empty glass on the nightstand and lays down. He needs to sleep more and he puts a hand on Deran’s thigh.  
  
”Gonna be up and running in no time.”  
”You better. Not gonna be your fucking nurse.”  
  
Deran sounds harsh but Adrian can hear the warmth beneath the words and he closes his eyes again, waiting for the painkiller to set in and for his skittish lover to pull the stick out of his ass and just relax a little. Deran’s rough hand adjusts the blanket.  
  
”Get some more sleep, man.”  
”Yeah. Thanks.”  
  
Two fingers suddenly brushes over Adrian’s cheek and Deran leans over to plant a quick, shallow kiss on his forehead. Then, before any of them can say anything about it, he leaves the room.  
  
***  
  
The waves are perfect and Deran sits in Adrian’s couch, watching movies and pretends not having a lower volume on the laptop so he can hear if Adrian wakes up. He pretends he’s just not in the mood for surfing, not that it’s simply not funny without Adrian. He pretends, as he does with their long makeout sessions, the way Adrian curls up in his arms in sleep and the fact that Deran loves to bury his nose in Adrian’s hair, that it doesn’t mean anything. He tells himself he only did this because Adrian is a whiny ass bitch now and the sooner those Ibuprofens and cold drinks do their work, the sooner Deran doesn’t have to put up with his whining.   
  
Yes, Deran ignores the fact that it feels good to just be nice without any ulterior motive, that it feels good to see Adrian getting genuinly happy about a stupid fucking ice cream drink and that Deran’s in love, so ridiculously fucking in love with him, admitting it to himself even for a second would turn this little piece of heaven into ashes and ruins. Because eventually, everything and everyone that means anything to Deran, Smurf will claim for herself, but not this. She wont have Adrian, wont have the piece of Deran belonging to him and Deran would rather destroy it himself than taking the risk of Smurf pulling his lover into her web.  
  
Deran looks towards the halfclosed bedroom door, telling himself this is all about just having a good time, surfing high waves and having the best sex ever because Deran’s a good liar but not _that_ good and the closet has never felt so narrow as now, when Adrian lays curled like a cat in the bed, too warm and with an empty glass with melted icecream on the nightstand. And for a weak, ridiculous second, for the first time since they left on this headless trip, Deran allows himself to imagine it doesn’t have to end.


End file.
